


these things do happen.

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Feminization, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Plot, Unofficial Sequel, Workaholic Original Percival Graves, and/or conclusion, hung graves, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Married Life isn't something Credence ever imagined he'd face, much less with a man like Percival Graves, but nowhe'sa Graves, and life is better for it.The honeymoon phase has to wear off eventually though.It can't all be roses and cream.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whileyoustillcan (L_M_Biggs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_M_Biggs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Oh, What Needful Things We Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215741) by [L_M_Biggs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_M_Biggs/pseuds/L_M_Biggs). 



> starting right after the original ended, aka with the honeymoon, you know how we do.  
> there's some plot here, plenty of references to things in the original, and of course, minor canon compliance.  
> i like to think certain series' of events mellow graves out a little, so he's not quite as dick-ish here as he was in the original, in the end. hope it makes sense and i hope you enjoy, especially *you* the original author, if you're reading.

Credence awoke slowly, dimly aware of his surroundings, with a few things that seemed a little different to the usual. Rosemary had not roused him at eight, the room was quiet, dark, and still. But there was also a new weight over his legs, something pinning him to the bed, as wet warmth spread upon his skin, followed by the insistent caress of thumbs over his hip bones, a moan lewdly escaped his throat. 

His body had not betrayed him in the cruelest manner, no, it was something  _ else _ entirely.

Credence’s new husband was kissing between his thighs, wicked mouth hot on his stomach, tongue dipping into his navel, lowering steadily to reach his cock. Already Credence found himself growing hard, as the deep seated yearning ache he thought had been sated by their coupling began to rise once again inside him. It was most certainly stoked by the flickering flames of his dreams. 

He had not been able to recall anything so vividly in his life, but he knew he had distinctly imagined Percival pressing him into unyielding brick before having him right there, shattering him bit by bit with steady and slow thrusts, before then molding him back together into a vessel only made for the man’s pleasure.   
Percival looked up, midway through kissing down Credence’s length, and smiled. 

"Good morning, my beautiful wife. I trust you slept well?"   
Credence shivered at the endearment, though it struck a chord in him. 

"Are you not preparing to drink me down?" The crudeness of his speech floored him, three days passed he would not have dared speak to the man in such a way. But he’d been had, in so many ways and times during the space of just two days before and after the wedding, things felt infinitely different.   
Percival blinked, taking in Credence's unconscious furrowing of brow, perhaps thinking it could be blamed on drowsiness or something else. 

"Does that not please you, my boy? What shall I call you then, darling?" 

Credence swallowed thickly and nodded, praying for forgiveness for such blasphemy.  He almost thought of Percival, of his Mister Graves as his true God. He’d been kept pure all his life for  _ him _ , not for some faceless and nameless being in the sky. Now, he belonged somewhere.

"Please, Percival. Just that. Or what I am. Yours. Your husband." 

He received a nod, before the man returned to his task, or perhaps, his delight. It brought Credence's arousal to life once more, and his cock swelled over his pale thigh, dripping clear fluid that tickled over his skin, as Percival nosed ever lower, and nuzzled a face rough with a day’s growth against his skin. 

It tickled slightly, but the sensation was not wholly unwelcome. 

The next thing he felt was his husband's wicked mouth over his hole, slick and sore from their lovemaking throughout the night. He fought another full body shiver, but Percival seemed blissfully unaware. He laved the sensitive skin and suckled the rim, before tracing the trembling muscle with a reverent fingertip. "Would you like my cock again, sweetling?"   
Credence was suddenly afraid. He could never possibly deny the man anything, but he was just not ready. 

"I-uh, please, I can take you in my mouth. I want to please  _ you _ ." 

Percival shook his head, shushing him with a hand sliding up his throat, then fingertips pressing over his mouth, thumbing his bottom lip, catching on his teeth, "Let me take care of  _ you _ ."   
He kept at it, remaining between Credence's legs until he thought he might die from want, before Percival put his mouth back to his cock, swallowing him down to the root. 

Credence choked on a sob as he came, unraveled in a mere instant, undone by Percival's easy manner. The way he effortlessly wrought one climax,  then two from him, was enough to drive him mad. All by merely focusing on Credence, suckling every last drop of semen from his length. The fingers dipped into his mouth and he licked at them eagerly, desperate to show his devotion and love. 

Percival withdrew that hand to put the saliva wet fingers to Credence's hole, no longer just swollen and puffy from so much attention, but open, gaping and hungry for more. Just like Percival had called it last night. It was  _ almost  _ like a cunt. If only it could be just as self serving, then there would be no need for magic to aid the way.

He wanted to be a good wife for the man, but he was unsure what exactly that would mean.    
Percival pulled back his hand only after Credence had shuddered on a gasp, wrung dry of orgasms, utterly spent. He laid kitten weak and limp on the bed. 

But he remained untouched only for a moment, before he was pulled to the man's chest, and kissed on the temple. "You  _ do _ please me, darling. You hardly have to do more than look at me, and I feel adored."   
  
At breakfast, their meal was devoured leisurely, as if they had all the time in the world, though Credence doubted that was the case. Percival confirmed it a mere moment later, with obvious reluctance.   
"I must go to Germany this weekend. It's only for a few days, but it means our honeymoon must be cut short." Credence found himself nodding, understandingly, even if it covered the fact his heart was breaking. He’d barely had a week in his husband’s presence. To have it cut short so soon, even for important work was painful, to say the least. 

Percival was watching him steadily over his cup of coffee, and he spoke in low, soothing tones, 

“You're not going to worry about me if I don't come home from work right?” 

Credence gulped and then to his horror, felt tears stinging his eyes, welling out in big fat drops to trail down his cheeks, ignoring his will to remain aloof, the perfect wife. 

“Of course not. I can’t help but worry-”

Percival was at his side in an instant, strong arms wrapping around his slender form, as he was clad only in the pure white silk robe he’d been gifted  _ for _ their wedding night, and his husband was in only a thin pair of undershorts. 

“It’s alright, darling. I’ll be fine. It’s a routine trip. Just to check on our foreign dignitaries. There’s a bit of a mess going on right now with a supposedly charismatic man whose upsetting the Ministry. Got everyone on edge. So they’re sending me in to smooth things over. It won’t even take the whole weekend. I swear it. I’ll be back before you know I’ve been gone.” 

Credence exhaled on a sigh, and leaned into him, nuzzling against his throat, as Percival squeezed his hip, making him startle. “Would you have me, before you go?”

Percival hummed, and the sound vibrated through Credence’s entire being. 

“I should hope so. We have two more days to explore carnal delights, my boy. I’d love to have you right here, against the counter.” 

He smiled, dizzily, and then turned to let the man embrace him proper, before mouthing over his jaw then up to his lips, “Please do.”

 

So they did. Nearly every room in the brownstone was properly christened, in the most irreverent of ways. 

By the time Friday morning dawned, and Percival was packing with a swift flick of his wand, while standing over in the bathroom’s door frame, Credence felt a touch of panic clawing in his chest. 

“Shall I shave you before you go? Make sure you’re perfectly soft to kiss me goodbye?”

Percival smirked at him, and then rubbed a hand over his cheeks, quite scratchy with a couple days growth. It made him appear handsomer, older but rugged, and Credence secretly adored it. 

“I daresay I’d be too distracted by your lovely hands and want to never leave. So I must decline. I’ll manage myself.” Credence deflated slightly, but nodded, and watched as Percival moved to stand before the mirror, effortlessly charming his face smooth, while eyeing Credence where he sat upon the coverlet atop their bed, clad in his casual blue slacks and a grey silk blouse. It could be technically called a dress shirt, but for the silk covered buttons, and the height of the collar, it ensured all love bites were hidden, in case there should be any rogue visitors, like Percival had told him to expect.

People may come to check on him, to ensure he had not become weary or bored of remaining inside the house. Even his mother-in-law might come by, though the thought made Credence shiver in fright. Percival might have been joking when he said that, Credence could never be sure. 

“Darling, if it looks like the trip will take longer, I promise, I will write you.”

He sighed and then nodded, leaning in to kiss Percival sweetly, although naturally, as any embrace for them did, it turned heated within moments, and they both broke away panting for air. 

“You’re going to ruin me, you know that?” His husband murmured, voice gravely, and eyes lidded heavily, like he’d just woken from a long nap. Credence started to feel a blush heating his cheeks, and he smiled shyly, “I think you’ve got that backwards.”

Percival kissed him once more, and backed off, “I love you, husband mine.” 

Credence wondered if that was what it felt like if butterflies had begun to take flight in the hollow space of his chest, and he choked on the words, but they manage to slip out, “I love you too.”

 

The days were filled with practicing whether that was his cooking skills, or his magical learning, he’d been unable to resist, and there seemed no harm in hoping. Besides, as there were infinitely more studious books in Percival’s library, not to mention, no fear of possibly running into either of the Graves parents. Credence did find himself lamenting the lack of a garden, but upon Miss Queenie’s first visit, he didn’t even need to voice his desire and concern, she suggested they visit the Botanical gardens, downtown, and then share a lunch. 

He accepted, only because he knew she was someone that his husband trusted, and therefore, so did he. Throughout the trip, she complimented his hair and his style of dressing, and he then found himself stammering to return the praise. Despite how beautiful the numerous flora and fauna was in the gardens, Credence found himself only thinking, and worrying about Percival. 

Queenie Goldstein was the prime example of why he always sank into mild despair at the thought of Percival ever realizing he’d been  _ tied _ to him, thanks to his aunt’s cruel machinations. Why had the man bothered to marry someone like him, when there were  _ witches _ out there like Miss Goldstein?

Queenie was beautiful, seemingly without much effort, and radiated light and kindness. 

The first time he thought such a thing upon seeing her, he witnessed _ her  _ blush, and then practically bubble over with sweetness. Queenie was a legilimens, so he learned that he must endeavor to be more careful with his thoughts around her, but she insisted she didn’t mind. In the end, Credence was grateful to have her as a friend, or even simply an acquaintance. 

He did hope once Percival returned he would still be able to see her every so often. She had most weekends off, she told him, so just give her a call, should he ever grow bored while cooped up inside his husband’s brownstone. He did not see that happening on the regular, but he thanked her profusely, and returned home feeling lighter. It was Sunday afternoon now, and if he did not receive a raven, he could expect Percival in the morning or later in the day.

He did not.

There was no raven.

Nearly a week passed, and Credence was regularly pacing in the library, fairly sick with worry, unable to sit still and focus on any single tome, instead, he turned his ring, and fumbled with the hem of his shirt. Something must be terribly wrong, for Percival to have gone silent for so long. Instantly, he recalled the tarot reading he performed, and his heart nearly stopped. 

The Moon, the Reversed Hermit… the World, upright. 

It signified completion, achievement and fulfilment, he had since read up on the final card. So though he may be justified in his current need to worry, somehow, there will be no long term need to panic. He turned in early for the night, and laid awake for so long, the dawn crept through the heavy curtains, and only pure exhaustion lulled him into sleep. 

He woke to dress for breakfast, and walked out to find Percival at the kitchen table, flicking through a newspaper, suspended in midair by wandless magic. Something inside his chest thudded back to life, and a smile formed on his lips, while tears sprung to his eyes. “Percival!”

He didn’t quite fling himself at his husband, but almost, and the man’s arms wrapped around him slowly, before tightening, holding him close to Percival’s strong chest, smelling faintly of ash and smoke. Percival’s cologne had long since worn off during his travels, but Credence didn’t care. He wanted to  _ drown _ in the man’s love. “I missed you. You worried me. No note, no letter, not a thing-”

“Shh-hh, there, there my sweet. Forgive me. I found myself caught up in things with the Ministry, and had much to do upon my return to MACUSA. I would never willingly make you concerned. My lovely wife.”

Percival’s kiss was fierce, but so very welcome, Credence had been unmoored and lost without something to ground him, the physical contact he’d grown hungry for and become used to. Though he knew it was a sin, manifesting in an unhealthy  _ need _ and craving for his husband, none of that mattered, now that he was  _ home _ . “Percival, take me to bed,  _ please _ .”

His husband smirked, and Credence’s breath caught, 

“You would not give me a moment’s rest, you insist on being reminded of my affection?” 

Credence swallowed thickly, and then nodded. 

“You have not yet broken your fast, have you?” 

He shook his head, and Percival cooed at him, 

“Good. On your knees. You may have my seed to sate you.”

It was not unusual for Percival to enjoy the way Credence sucked his cock, but it was strange to be kept still, held by one hand cupping his skull, as fingers pet through his hair, while his jaw slowly began to ache from being stretched around the man’s throbbing length. 

He breathed steadily through his nose and lets his cheek rest upon Percival’s trouser clad thigh, blinking dazedly, the lack of sleep from the night before starting to get to him. Percival finished reading the paper after what seemed like an eternity, and then urged him to move, 

“Tighten your lips, less teeth, there you go.” 

Credence does as he was bade, and when Percival came down his throat, his hand was merciless on his hair, before letting go, and caressing his jaw. 

“Good boy. Now, why don’t you show me what you’ve learned?”

Credence got to his feet and wobbled over to brace himself on the counter, managing a smile, 

“Queenie told me about a few easy things to make for breakfast, to help start the day energized.” 

Percival blinked, “Is that right? She’s a clever one. I’m glad you two have been getting along.”

It went unsaid, but Credence considered that Monday a continuation to their honeymoon, so he didn’t mind when after breakfast, he was quickly swept away to the bedroom, wherein Percival asked him to run a bath. He nearly dozed off twice while waiting for his husband to return, but when he did, Credence was instantly wide awake. 

Percival started off by kissing him almost senseless, and then stroking him off within a handful of moments, leaving him gasping and panting for air, as his spend slowly cooled over his skin. Percival nipped at his neck, and clicked his fingers, sending a shudder wracking down Credence’s spine, as he felt his hole grow hot and slippery, so that the man could easily rut against him. The head of his cock slid in with minimal effort, until he was buried to the hilt, and Credence squeaked, hands tight on Percival’s arms. His heavy brows creased in a frown, “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. Nothing.”

Even after Percival had come, rolled over and off to the side, Credence stayed flat on his back, shivering slightly. He could feel the man’s seed leaking out from between his thighs, but something colder chilled him. They could not simply ignore what was happening, they cannot be silent on their love forever, could they? Credence recalled it with such clarity, how Percival had looked at him, and said the three most magical words in existence, that he thought he would go to his grave without ever hearing from long dead parents, much less a wonderful husband.  _ I love you _ .

 

Another week passed, much the same, except there was a new routine, and Credence was on his knees more often than he used to be when forced to clean house. He did not speak unless spoken to, and Percival rarely asked him anything except what’s for dinner. He ached to be able to use magic, since he’d been reading about it, he couldn’t help wanting. Credence also considered trying to pry into his lover’s mind, like Queenie could do so easily with  _ anyone _ . 

If only the man would just talk to him, and set to rest his fears. Had he done something wrong? Was he supposed to be the more vocal one? When it came to pleasures of the flesh, he didn’t  _ think _ Percival minded him being noisy, but just in case, he always stifled his cries and moans, not that the man noticed or cared when he failed to reach completion. 

It was turning into a pain, a familiar ache once more, the hurt from  _ neglect _ , and he feared it. 

He feared that Percival was beginning to grow tired and bored with him, and soon enough, he would find himself out on the streets, with no one to turn to, and no one who would help him. Except maybe… Queenie. She was so kind, and full of life, she could be trusted. Percival went off on another long trip, three days, and Credence was faced with a decision with an easy solution. 

So he packed an overnight bag, and then walked the whole way to Queenie’s apartment in the Bronx. He sat on the stoop, hugging his duffel, until the sun had set and the night air grew chilly, before there was a soft  _ pop _ , and she appeared at the end of the lane. “Credence! Honey, what on earth are you doing out here?”

He managed a smile, though it felt brittle, “I hoped I could stay with you.”

Queenie helped him to his feet, legs stiff and back sore from sitting so long, as she ushered him into the building, up three flights of stairs, then into a warm and cozy den.

“Sure thing! Do you want some cocoa?” 

He nodded, afraid to speak and shatter the friendly silence. Once settled on her pink and gold upholstered couch, steaming mug in hand, smelling delicious and sweet, he found he could draw a lungful of air. Her hand rubbed slow circles on his back, soothingly, and he took a sip of the drink, not too hot to scorch, just right, before daring to speak. “I don’t mean right now. I mean, in case things-”

He didn’t need to finish voicing the thought. She’d already read it all in his mind. A sob formed a lump in his throat, and she gently plucked the mug away, pulling him into a hug, smelling of lavender and freesia, with a hint of honey. “Sugar, you don’t gotta tell me all your life secrets. But if you and Mister Graves are having problems, and he won’t listen to you… maybe you could try seeing a minister? Those nomaj religious folks aren’t always so good, but there’s gotta be someone around this city who isn’t a bundle of crazy.”

Credence nodded, and then just closed his eyes for a moment, resting against her, listening to her heartbeat, and feeling his own settle. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome. You can stay here as long as you like. I know your Mister Graves is out of the office, so I’m sure being stuck at home along isn’t much fun.”

After a wonderful meal that Credence spent the duration of imagining cooking it for Percival to help restore things to how they used to be, he was guided to Queenie’s guest room and given a squeeze on the hand before being told goodnight. He didn’t lay awake for hours, but he did spend a good few minutes praying to a god he wasn’t sure existed anymore, and the twirled his ring a few times, rubbing the stone absentmindedly to make the scorpion appear. 

“What’s happening to us Percival… what are we becoming?”

 

Strong magic had always taken even the most powerful of witches or wizards massive concentration and effort. While even some nomajs have been known to perform basic tricks and tasks, vanishing small objects and morphing others, it was not so impossible for Credence, though apparently void of any power, to do one very simple, if unconscious spell.

He could indeed make the ring change, and reveal the scorpion in the gold, as there was a very powerful binding charm in it, that had been activated by Percival’s magic, and strengthened from their union, at the wedding and after. It was not an immediate result, hence, Percival did not cross oceans in moments to appear at Credence’s side, though he had done everything required to activate the homing beacon and makeshift portkey. 

Currently, it was having to fight off multiple spells and hexes and binding charms. 

But when Credence awoke near eight in the morning to a screech, not from any living being outside of a human, finally, the spell had been completed. 

“Credence, oh Mercy lewis, he’s hurt. Credence, don’t come out here.” 

Queenie had screamed, and Credence had frozen at the door, one hand extended to the knob, but upon her order, he’d dropped it. “Okay.” 

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he trusted her. A flurry of activity sounded within a few moments, and numerous voices rose up, along with more than a few people swearing and exclaiming loudly. Before Credence could give in to his immense curiosity, Queenie was there, opening the door, and ushering him out, a hand firmly at the small of his back, as he was clad merely in pajamas, and suddenly facing several strangers, all clad in long coats, clutching wands just like Percival’s.

“Honey, they need you to answer some questions. Don’t be scared now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long. interest didnt seem very high and i havent been feeling motivated.... in general. so you know.... if you like it, show it some love *tosses confetti*

So many times, Percival had expected the darkness to take him for good, and he would never again be allowed to see the face of his beloved darling. He regretted everything he’d ever neglected to do, wished he’d told Credence that he loved him every single day since they had met, not merely as they’d parted. He’d never taken the boy for a walk in Central Park, to see the changing colors of the leaves, to kiss him under mistletoe, and dance during the New Year was rung in. 

Percival would have welcomed death with open arms had it not been for that boy, for his husband, his devoted sweetheart.  _ Credence _ .

In the beginning of it all, he’d thought it a not so great idea, even if both of his parents had insisted,  _ ‘Aren’t you old enough to begin looking Percival?’ _

So he’d partly agreed to it to shut them up, and also because in the end, Credence had been utterly hypnotizing and so much more than his heritage insisted. With or without magic, though somehow he suspected there could be latent power in the boy’s veins, either way, he had enchanted Percival, and somehow, softened his seemingly impervious to lovelorn heart. 

Like the fairy tales of the king’s with their beautiful princesses kept in high towers or housed in massive castles, Percival had managed to find a treasure to call his own. Funny thing was, he’d managed to lose it all in a blinding instant, when faced with the whole reason for traveling across oceans, and only then had he learned, oh, it was all a trap. He was the most important piece of peacekeeping yes, so naturally he’d been sent with a small cache of Aurors to guard him. He hadn’t expected to need an army with which to defend himself. 

But he had. 

Grindelwald had deftly murdered them all with a single curse, leaving Percival alone, standing amidst scattered corpses, wondering if he should bother throwing up, or casting a shield charm. 

Was there time for a final prayer?

Grindelwald just smiled, and said simply that there was more than one way to tell someone’s future, outside of reading tarot cards. Percival’s eyes widened, and he lifted his wand, but it was too late.

He’d been bound with a hex to keep any of his magic from being used, hands tied to his ankles, and stuffed inside a box that felt barely big enough to hold him, even folded over as he was. 

Grindelwald hadn’t bothered to take all of his clothing, just the important pieces that people would notice. His scorpion tie pins, his coat, the scarf, even his wedding ring. The mere  _ idea _ of that maniac going anywhere near Credence was enough to make his stomach turn, and fury rise through his entire body. 

Of course now, his magic had nowhere to go, except to rebound back on itself, and make the entire experience that much more unpleasant. Days bled into nights, as there was no way to tell time in the box, and Percival had only water to sustain him from completely wasting away to nothing. 

Grindelwald was keeping him alive for some reason, but he suspected it would only be cause for concern, not comfort. He was never visited, he was never asked for advice, no memories stolen. It seemed, whatever the man had seen in his visions, as he had been rumored to be of Seer blood, had been enough to aid him. Credence, gentle soul that he was, probably hadn’t questioned a thing, wouldn’t notice a difference, as Percival had never been overly indulgent or sweet as most lovers could claim to be. 

To his eternal regret and shame, he wondered if Credence had even  _ believed _ him when he’d professed to love him. He shook with silent cold tears for a half day upon that revelation, and by the time he’d finished his daily gift of water, he thought it had been a week. Maybe more. He didn’t know. 

Around what felt like four in the morning, according to his still functioning internal clock, he felt a vicious tug around his navel. The pain, that he was long used to. Grindelwald could inflict it at any moment, or if Percival forgot for a moment, and tried to cast a charm for some fucking light in the ever present blackness of his prison, there would be swift retaliation to that action. 

But this, this was something different altogether.

Over the next three days, it was as if the box was trying to jerk him around, jostle his bones out from his very skin, and then toss him back to the ground again. Percival’s jaw began to ache from gritting his teeth so hard against the pain, and when he was given water, he ignored it, before eventually dumping it over his head, trying in a futile attempt to drown himself. 

That was by far much worse than a headache, leaps and bounds beyond any torture that could be conceived, because it came from  _ nowhere, _ and never ceased, not even for the space of a breath. Surely Grindelwald did not intend to drive him mad from pain, he  _ needed _ something from Percival. 

There was a purpose to his actions. If he wanted Percival dead, casting a single killing curse would surely take less effort than drawn out constant energy draining into this agony. 

On the fifth day, Percival was prepared to expend all his own remaining magic, to force it to rebound and put an end to his suffering, but every time he lifted a hand to do it, he saw Credence’s face, bright and shining and hopeful in his mind. He trembled with love, and made Percival weak with the realization that he should have been fighting harder, trying desperately to find a way back to his husband, but he’d just, been too focused on wallowing in his own misery. 

He closed his fist, and inhaled deeply, the pain now a dull throbbing in his temples. He could feel Grindelwald’s hex humming under the surface of his skin, just laying in wait for him to draw upon his magic. He gritted his teeth, and opened his eyes, 

“If you can hear me or See this in your mind, when I get out of here, I’m going to rip you limb from limb. That’s a promise.”

 

Magic sizzled at his fingertips, and  _ didn’t _ bounce back. The pain ceased. Light seared his retinas, and Percival actually winced from something other than his constant headache. The ground he was laying on was no longer cold, nor unforgiving. Warm air kissed his skin, and rough but cushioned carpet was beneath his body. He opened his mouth to call for help, but instead heard footsteps and a shrill scream.

When the virtual dust settled, and he opened his eyes again, there was no longer overwhelming black, instead, it was white. He was most definitively in a hospital room, and strapped to a bed, while a hum of activity surrounded him. He tried to speak, and his voice was worse than a raspy croak, it was a hushed whisper. “Where is he?”

He wasn’t sure in that moment if he meant his husband Credence, or the madman Grindelwald, but he got no answer. Not for a long stretch of silence. Then it was Seraphina who he was looking at, striding through the door, clad in sapphire and yellow like he hadn’t almost died. 

“Percival, honestly,  _ of all the times _ to run off without establishing a new code phrase, it had to be this trip.” His best excuse was being caught in the haze of newlyweds, but that was pathetic even for him. He accepted his chastisement, especially since it didn’t come with him being urged or forced to resign. 

“How much damage did he cause?”

Seraphina’s face told the whole story before she could even open her mouth again. There were a half dozen new worry lines, and possibly some silver amongst the golden curls of her hair. He’d never seen her without her wrap, so he knew that she must have come to see him in a hurry. 

“Where is he?”

She drew a deep breath, 

“Inside the holding cell. The international confederation is on its way, but even for them, it’ll be almost a day of travelling.” 

The  _ ‘how’  _ wasn’t important to Percival, it was the _ ‘why.’ _

“He wanted to get close to me, I suppose. There’s been some kind of rumor about magic being the cause for a few recent accidents. They’ve threatened exposure to the nomajs. Now, I know you had recently become engaged to one of the descendents of the Scourers, which is great, rah-rah and all that, but, the fact remains, it puts you in danger. All of us are at risk.”

Percival sat upright so fast it made his head spin, 

“Are you accusing my husband of having something to do with this?”

Seraphina sighed, “That’s not what I said at all, Percival. I’m just saying,  _ maybe _ there’s a reason he targeted you. He knew you had weaknesses beyond control.” 

Percival had never felt so defensive of a singular creature besides himself in his entire life, 

“How dare you. He’s not my fiance. He’s my husband. He’s no more a weakness than any of the Aurors you’ve slept with Sera. Don’t test me. I’m not your enemy, Grindelwald is.”

She looked as if he’d slapped her across the face, from several strides away, and instead of replying to him, ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it, and letting the curls fall back down. “You’re hysterical. You need to see your beloved, then you’ll be on the road to recovery, I suppose. He’s here. With Miss Goldstein.” Her voice caught on the final word, and Percival quirked a brow at her. He’d not been aware she’d moved on from the Auror department for her flings. He’d give her credit where it was due, but one would have to be blind to not be caught by the allure of Queenie. 

Percival was just grateful she’d gone ahead and followed through with his request to check on Credence. He’d been half scared she would refuse to do it, call him overprotective, paranoid, but she had merely smiled knowingly, and agreed.

 

Seraphina left in a flurry of navy velvet and gold taffeta, only to be replaced by a quieter and equally solemn faced figure wrapped in soft lavender, and light peach silk. A casual suit, and then one of the scarves he’d gifted to his darling before their wedding, as part of his new wardrobe. His eyes were rimmed red from crying, and his bottom lip was swollen, perhaps from being worried between his teeth. Either way, Percival had never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life, and he held out a hand before he could think better of it. Credence flinched, but did steadily walk closer to his bedside. 

“Is it really you? It’s not a trick?”

Percival’s heart thudded once, twice, three times, before sinking somewhere around his toes. That bastard. He put his hand over his chest, flexing it over the blankets,

“Yes, darling, it’s me. You know,  _ you _ saved my life. You did. I will never be able to repay you.” Credence’s eyes grew wide, and further tears escaped, 

“That’s what they keep telling me… but I don’t understand.”

Percival prayed for strength, and then extended his hand again, ignoring how it trembled before Credence got close enough to take it, grip lax, but  _ there _ . “The ring. You remember what I told you, yes? ‘If you ever wish to see me, then all you need do is touch the ring and think of me.’ And so you did. I’m so sorry, for whatever he might have done to you, that made you feel you had to get away. But then you  _ did _ think of me. The power of our bond broke through miles of enchantments, curses and hexes, charms unknown to me, to bring me to you. I love you, my brave, gorgeous husband.”

He slowly lifted Credence’s hand, fingers laced tentatively with his own, until it could be grazed by his lips across the pale knuckles. He tried to infuse everything he ever felt, and wanted, and needed, into the kiss, and when his eyes met Credence’s once more, he saw the truth shining back at him, along with a watery smile. “It  _ is _ you.  _ Percival…” _

Credence fell into his arms, and clung to him with a ferocity Percival had only ever dreamt of, burying his face in the crook of the boy’s neck, inhaling deeply, he was safe, finally. 

* * *

 

The hospital was ridiculous, as usual, but when faced with an angry and disgruntled Graves, could only provide the potions he’d need, and strict instructions about his diet for the next few weeks, to recover all that he’d been starved of. Percival had half a mind to tell them all to fuck off and just consider if they’d start marketing a potion to allow people to see through disguises, especially when it came to high ranking government officials, but he bit his tongue instead. 

The confederation had retrieved Grindelwald, and his trial was set to convene in a week, but Percival was pointedly refusing to attend. He didn’t want to be within a mile of the wizard, much less seen by him again. He’d threatened Seraphina with resigning if she tried to force him, and that had shut her up.

Upon arriving home to the brownstone, he was assaulted by the harsh smells of chemical cleaners and the faint traces of dark and foreign magic. Credence told him in hushed tones that a team of Aurors had been through, while Percival was in the hospital recovering, and the boy had been staying with Miss Goldstein in the meantime. No wonder. 

They’d purged every ounce of life from the home, and Percival felt the barest twinge of pain from his aching limbs, but it took little magic to open all the windows, to try and coax some natural air into the rooms. Once Credence had changed from his suit to something comfortable, a mint green colored robe with lace on the hem, then helped Percival into some sleep pants, he was helped over to their bed to lay down. After a few moments of Credence lingering at the bedside, smiling nervously down at him, he turned away to go. Percival swallowed his pride, and asked him to stay. 

“But the nurses said-” 

He smiled tightly, 

“They may or may not be mistaken about my self control. I think I will rest better if I have my husband beside me.”

Credence gave him a half smile, and then nodded, 

“Okay, Percival, if you want me.”

The moment he was in Percival’s arms, cuddled up to his side, he relaxed, hand idly petting over the boy’s ever growing hair. “I always want you, you must know this. I’m hopelessly addicted to you.”

Credence’s hand was splayed over his chest, right on his pounding heart, and he could feel his slender body shaking under his hand, “I thought… I thought it  _ was _ you, for so long. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I just… I didn’t want you to be angry with me.” 

His own hand shook as he withdrew it, and then braced it around Credence’s shoulders, squeezing him close, “Darling, I don’t want you to fear questioning me.  _ Ever _ . If something is happening that bothers you, that you grow concerned about, please, tell me. I beg of you.”

There was drawn out bit of quiet that had Percival wondering if Credence had simply fallen asleep, so he refused to break it, and simply breathed, feeling as the boy did the same. His hand moved, and then skittered down to snag one of Percival’s, and he squeezed gently, before Credence’s long fingers laced with his own. “Okay.” 

It didn’t take long for him to relent, and give in to the notion that there was little chance he could merely  _ rest _ when he was home, in bed, with his distractingly lovely husband. He let his thumb rub over the bump of Credence’s knuckles, and then voiced his thought. 

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Credence sat up, and leaned over to smile at him, dark waves slipping out from behind his ear to cascade down his cheek in a silky shadow, “Please.” 

With his free hand, he reached up to caress his darling’s face, drawing him down so their lips could meet. For a few moments, that was all that there was. A slow, soft kiss. Then Credence rocked his hips gently against Percival’s side, and his heart skipped a beat. 

“Sorry.” 

Credence broke the kiss with a hushed whisper, and started almost immediately to retreat, curling into himself, and Percival just barely stopped him from completely climbing off the bed by rolling over to bracket him in his arms. “Wait… don’t hide from me.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.” 

Percival sighed, and then licked his lips, eyeing Credence’s throat, pale, a perfect arch, begging to be marked. He shouldn’t feel as strong as he did, but sleep was the  _ last _ thing on his mind, in that instant. 

“I could stay on my back. Let you ride me. I wouldn’t have to do a thing. If you want.” 

Credence’s answering blush and slow smile made warmth coil in Percival’s gut, replacing the cold stab of fear he’d felt at the sight of the boy retreating. 

“Alright. I have missed your hands on me.”

Percival’s question died in his throat, as he moved to lay back once more, and Credence followed, carefully curled fingers into the waistband of his pants and tugged him down his legs, leaving him bare from his stomach below. 

“He didn’t hurt me, but he wasn’t kind either. After the first day that y-he was back, I never got to climax from his touch. He didn’t seem to think I was worthy of pleasure equal to you.” 

Before Percival could grab his wand and beg his pardons long enough to apparate cross oceania and follow through on his threat to Grindelwald, Credence had taken both of his wrists, and urged them above his head, flexing uselessly on the plush softness of the pillows. 

His boy straddled him easily, lifting the edge of the robe, and rocking his hips down, bringing their cocks together in a swift move. The action made Percival’s own length jerk and twitch in response. 

“Don’t argue with me. Don’t try and make it a big deal. Just make love to me.” He nodded, wordlessly, and Credence leaned down to kiss him, heated and slow, shifting up so that Percival’s cock nudged against the swell of his balls, the warm skin of his taint. Credence let go of one of Percival’s wrists to reach back behind himself, stroking over Percival and lining up with his hole, sliding his ass so that it framed his length. 

“Cast the spell. Please.”

Percival vowed to himself that he would spend every second of their next morning taking Credence apart, bit by bit, until he was delirious with pleasure, and had lost count of the number of orgasms he would be given. For now, he obeyed, and charmed his fingers slick, pressing past Credence’s hand on his cock, to rub over his hole, feeling how he jumped, yielding to his touch, a soft gasp leaving him at the first breach of a finger. “Percival…” 

Credence’s eyes fell shut, and Percival watched as color bloomed in his cheeks once more, rippling down his neck and over his chest, the light green robe he’d worn to bed with him having fallen open, no longer hiding any of his slim and pale body. 

“Darling, do you want more? Shall I make you come first?”

Credence shook his head, “I want you inside me.” 

Percival refused to rush, or hurt his boy, so he disobeyed and added a second finger, curling beside the first, pulling a surprised squeak from Credence, as he found the boy’s prostate, and pushed him closer to coming. “Please!”

Another charm for further slick, and warmth then covered his cock, making a groan rumble out of his throat, while Credence rocked forward again, teasing now. Percival pulled back his hand, only to apply it to Credence, where he was hard, cock curved up against the concave smoothness of his stomach. Doing so granted him another whimper, 

“Percival, I need you-”

“Yes, I know, my love.”

He barely had a moment before Credence was raising up to begin lowering himself over Percival, and with every agonizing inch of tight heat enveloping his cock, he could feel shockwaves of bliss rippling through him. Both his hands found Credence’s hips, finally prepared to simply hold, and have, rather than force his husband to come before he really wanted to. Credence was setting the pace, and Percival ignored every aching pain, and the reasons why he should have listened to the nurses. Fuck them. 

What do they know about love? 

When the boy shuddered over him, and the warmth of his release spilled onto Percival’s chest, he could feel the way Credence’s ass gripped around his cock, so he was helpless to resist the urge to fall over that same edge. He thrust up, mindlessly, and called out his darling’s name, over and over, like a prayer to some irreverent being. Credence answered him instead with a kiss, and the change in angle managed to make him gasp, so finally, Percival moved his hands, stroking with one overtop of his boy’s back, under the fabric of his robe, and then slipped the other in between their bodies, where they were still moving together, to grasp at Credence’s spent cock, his thumb rubbing the slippery head. 

Credence whimpered, and jolted over him, but said nothing, he didn’t demand that Percival stop.

Percival makes the executive decision to urge him off, and guided Credence onto his back, so he could start the worship early. 

Credence blinked up at him, orgasmic haze not quite worn off yet, even as the question curved his worry bitten red lips, and Percival gently parted his legs, not allowing him to hide. The white cream seeping slowly out from Credence’s pink hole called to him, so he dropped down at once, licking the stray droplets, and then kissed back up to the boy’s cock. 

While it was soft, he discovered he could easily fit the whole thing into his mouth, with minimal jaw pain. He’d never done that before, not for long, but there was always a first time for everything. Credence had caught his breath, and then reached for him. A hand carded through his hair, and further questions formed to leave the boy’s throat as a low rasp. “What are you doing Percival? I’ve already-”

He put a hand to the boy’s mouth, shushing him without a word, and then pleaded with his eyes.

_ ‘Let me do this, for you, please.’ _

He drifted off to sleep, at least, he thought he might have. Perhaps he just dozed, until he was roused by the hand in his hair tightening, and Credence’s hips jerking slightly upward. The cock in his mouth had grown harder, and was halfway down his throat, so he sucked, and swallowed, shifting up on his elbows, locking eyes with Credence, who stifled a gasp. “You’re going to make me-”

He couldn’t order the boy to come, but he could encourage it, by putting a hand between slim legs, caressing the puffy and wet rim of the boy’s hole, pushing two fingers in, carefully curling them just right. Percival found the nub of flesh that made Credence’s entire body writhe in delight and massaged it firmly. That was how he came for the second, and third time, worked up to it, with Percival’s attention and adoration. Percival drank in the sight of Credence, made lazy and boneless from pleasure.

He swallowed once more, before letting Credence’s properly softened cock slip from his mouth, and then he smiled. “Now I can sleep, I think.”

Credence laughed, a quiet giggle, “That so? I need a week’s worth myself.”

Percival climbed up the bed, pulling Credence into his chest, tucked beneath his chin, “Dream of us.”

Credence laced their fingers together, and Percival squeezed back, “I will, I promise.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

_END_


End file.
